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I don’t. I cry, shake, and continue.
“Damn, Barrette, stop.” His voice is soft but strained. With more pressure, he places his hands on my face and lifts. He puts his fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Stop. You’re upset. Don’t do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“I’m so sorry,” I cry, my body shaking. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I know you want it.”
He yanks me up and holds me to his chest. “I don’t fucking care about that.”
“But you want it.”
“Well, yeah, but not like this. Not if this is your reaction.” His voice is hard, his eyes tight with anger.
I rest my head against his chest and listen to the thumping of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”
He wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back. “Don’t be.”
For a moment, he holds me, and I let him. I breathe through what I’m feeling and focus on him. I refuse to let myself ruin this. I can do this.
I squirm out of his grasp. “I want to try again.”
He shakes his head, his eyes narrowing on mine. “No.”
“Asa.” I sigh and move my hands to his thighs. “The only way I’m going to move on and find myself again is to keep trying. Let’s just… go slower. Tell me what you like.”
I can see the internal struggle. He obviously wants this. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands fall away. I position myself between his legs. His breathing kicks up. He’s into it and encourages me by saying, “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”
Maybe that’s what I’d been missing before. His words. His reassurance.
I smile. Though the tears are still there, I’m no longer shaking. My stomach tickles and things are happening. I’m… turned on by it and still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
“Is this right?” I ask, pausing to stroke my hand up and down him.
He nods, his lids heavy. His head rolls back when I go all the way down on him and tighten my lips around him. I do that once, and then slide up again keeping my lips tight like I’m biting, but with my lips.
That gets him. His grunts and lifts his hips again. Then he yanks me up, off him and onto my back on the mattress.
“Why did you stop?”
“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he growls and positions himself at my entrance.
I giggle, my lips swollen as his find mine. “Why not?”
His kisses hold his words captive, but eventually, he mumbles, “Because all I’ve thought about today is this pussy.”
His vulgar words tremble through me and my legs spread wider. I move my hands to his hips, and then lower and cup his ass, driving him into me. “Do it harder,” I beg, trying to angle my hips at just the right angle to get him inside me further. “Oh my God… it feels so good with you that deep inside me.”
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he pants out against my lips.
“Me too.”
Somehow, I end up on top of him and we come together. I smile down at him when our movements slow. He’s still inside me, grinning, and then he chuckles. “What the fuck made you want to do that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it since you did it to me and I never repaid the favor.”
He lifts me up, wrapping his arms around me. “You know I never expect that from you.”
“I know.” I trace his jaw with my fingertips. “But I want us to have a normal relationship. One where I don’t burst into tears anytime we do something sexual that reminds me of that night.”
Shock hits his face and his lips tighten. “Did you remember something?”